


Safety On, Please.

by dramatichowell



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alcohol, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gunplay, M/M, Oneshot, idk just enjoy man, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9267626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramatichowell/pseuds/dramatichowell
Summary: A short fic in which Jim forgets about gun safety.





	

**Author's Note:**

> * Jim is listening to:  
> Heathens - twenty one pilots (TOPxMM version)

Jim Moriarty is slouched in the arm chair nearest to the window, none of the lights in the apartment are on except for a purple lava lamp which hues a section of the living room in a soft pinkish light. A glass of the world’s finest whiskey perched delicately between his long, thin fingers and the glow of the night city lights reflect off his milky wrists and face, making them seem whiter than they usually are.  
A soft and dark tune plays quickly from the sound system and his eyes are gently closed. He looks almost peaceful apart from the slight frown present in his brow. His dark eyelashes lightly flutter against his cheeks as his eyes move beneath his eyelids and his raven hair isn’t slicked back like it normally is, rather quite messy as if he has pulled it in frustration.  
Bad day then.  
A large sniper rifle sits ominously at his feet.  
“Is that my rifle?”  
Jim’s eyes snap open at the sound of your voice, almost as if he didn’t notice you enter the room, but you know better than that, he feels your presence the moment you step foot into his building.  
Fucking creep.  
“Hmmm yes,” he sighs and turns towards the window. The view of London at night through Jim’s enormous glass window is always breathtakingly beautiful, even though you never like to admit enjoying such things. “I tend to think better when you are around.” He admits sheepishly.  
You smirk and flop down onto the chair opposite him and watch the lights reflect in his eyes as his gaze drifts across the expanse of the city, he hands you his glass absently. You take a sip and observe the criminal.  
“Look at them all Sebastian, all of them going about their lives, completely oblivious to one another. I bet they all think their lives are terribly important.”  
He turns to face you, eyes hovering over the long scars on your face for a moment, “They are incredibly boring,” he hums, “like goldfish.”  
You turn your gaze to the window and watch the people below weave around each other at various paces. Some in a hurry to get somewhere, whist others dawdle slowly on the curb of the footpath, devoid of a place to be. Two men in a heated argument clearly visible at a traffic light.  
“I actually find them amusing,” you sigh and take another sip of Jim’s whiskey before handing it to him. He downs it quickly and huffs a disapproving laugh.  
“Why?”  
“Because they’re all so stupid.” You simply state and smirk at him.  
He grins, “Don’t get so ahead of yourself darling, you aren’t one to talk.”  
“Fuck off, if I were as dumb as them I wouldn’t be sitting here you prick.”  
He giggles and pulls a gun on you, face suddenly completely serious. “Are you sure about that Bastian? I could pull the trigger right now if you aren’t careful.” He drawls and quirks his head to the side a little.  
You raise an eyebrow at him, death has never scared you. “Go on then.”  
He cackles and pulls the trigger, firing off to the side of your head and you don’t even flinch. A smash behind you envelops the room in darkness as the contents of what was the lava lamp leak out onto the dark panelled floor boards. Weird looking purple shit begins to pool at your boots, most likely staining them a horrific colour of sorts.  
“Gun safety, Jim.”  
A warm body quickly straddles your lap as cool metal presses into your temple and your hands immediately find a place on the man’s narrow hips.  
“Oops, I missed.” Jim breathes against your face, shadows of dim light from outside reveal a convincing, yet fake pout resting on his face, which quickly morphs into a grin.  
“Shame.” You sigh sarcastically and lean in to kiss his soft pink lips. It’s rough like it always is with Jim, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance. You feel him sigh as he relaxes into you, and one hand scratches harshly from your hairline down the back of your neck and you move your hands to squeeze his arse tightly. He gasps into your mouth and clenches his body in reaction, a loud BANG sounds into your right ear as he accidentally fires the gun right next to your face.  
“FUCK JIM!”  
Jim jumps at the sound and realises he still has the weapon in his hand, your ear is ringing. You glare at him and snatch it away, flicking on the safety and throwing it onto the sofa, all whilst grumbling at him. He simply giggles a quiet ‘sorry’ and leans back in to continue what he was doing before. Not like you’re complaining, you’d never complain.  
He drags you into the bedroom, leaving both your rifle and his hand gun safely in the lounge.

**Author's Note:**

> Well I hope you all enjoyed this short little fic. I don't really know what it was but I just felt like I needed some casual mormor fluff.  
> Kudos and feedback appreciated :)
> 
> You can also find me @dramatichowell on tumblr if you wanted to ask any questions or anything about stuff and things.


End file.
